


Torn Flesh

by lacegloves



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Asexual Character, Bandaging wounds, Electrical Burn, Female!Alastor, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Partial Nudity, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22706686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacegloves/pseuds/lacegloves
Summary: Alastor is hurt in a fight and Husk offers to bandage her up. He doesn't seem to bothered with one of her more guarded secrets.
Relationships: Alastor & Husk (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 100





	Torn Flesh

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys,
> 
> This is just a small interaction based on an AU idea I had where in Alastor was born and raised as a female, but in a gender bias world achieved the life she wanted by living as a man. I personally consider this to be more of a Non-binary character depiction, wherein Alastor doesn't have much in the way of preference towards how others perceive or call them. Similar to my other fic following the same idea, [Tying a Corset](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22139113), the pronouns are based on Husk's knowledge of Alastor's biological gender. Additionally, I imagine this being much earlier in Alastor's afterlife while they may not yet be comfortable with others openly knowing their biological gender.
> 
> I am, by no means, a medical practitioner of any kind. All the care described in this fic is based on research into varied degrees of electrical wounds as well as some assumptions about how demon's heal. I'm generally assuming that Alastor has an electrical burn that has partially run through their abdomen...
> 
> Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!

Vox was an asshole, as far as Husk was concerned.

His paw lifted to smear a bit of blood from a gash in his cheek, sneering a bit as he glanced back at Alastor. The overlord was grinning widely as usual and seemed fairly steady on her feet, though he knew the demon’s power was likely a bit overdrawn. Despite the attempt at a normal facade, Husk could see the slow, measured way that Alastor drew her breaths…

He knew Alastor had… or still was bleeding internally. The deer demon was very nearly drenched in viscera and blood, but it also stained her lips and teeth, dribbled down the edge of her smile.

In the midst of a fight, a true fight, Alastor tended to be a bit manic, almost immune to pain, as she attacked relentlessly. She was a true beast, possessed even. Fierce and terrifying, all claws and mad grins... she didn’t seem to give much thought to how scratched or broken her body became so long as she could tear into her opponent just as viciously. And all the while she would just laugh and laugh, and sometimes Husker would wonder if that was it, if Alastor had well and truly lost her mind…

And after she would politely deliver Husk home and be on her merry way, playing off whatever sick manner her body was bent or torn as a minor inconvenience, not worth Husk’s time or thought…

And maybe it wasn’t… They weren’t contract bound, but they weren’t friends either. They were more like two acquaintances that often found themselves in similar digs. Husk blamed it on them being born around roughly the same years, they had similar tastes in music, in scenes…

He wasn’t even meaning to help Alastor half the time… generally Alastor’s opponents were just obnoxious, rude, turning Husk’s quiet nights out into variable battlefields. Truth be told they deserved all the pain and terror the Radio Demon could dish out.

So maybe they were more like accidental partners in crime. The idea seemed juvenile, but it more or less was accurate. There was some odd agreement between them that when Husk was dragged into Alastor’s mess, Alastor would make sure he made it home afterwards. Maybe she just felt responsible, in some sick way. Whatever…

“You gonna duck out?” he asked, eyes narrowed as he watched Alastor seem to stare blankly at the steps leading up to Husk’s apartment building. He lifted his claws, waving them briefly in front of Alastor and watching how she turned back toward Husk, almost amused. “You okay, kid?”

“Splendid, truly,” she said, tilting her head and widening her grin just a bit. “You seem to be bleeding yourself!”

Husk rolled his eyes and sighed heavily as his claws dropped to Alastor’s lower back. He gave the demon a moment, feeling the way she tensed up at the sensation, one of those brows rising as she looked at Husk curiously. “Come on, it ain’t gonna hurt nothing if you take a moment before heading out. ‘Sides, I got a first aid kit inside.”

“Are you worried, Husker, my dear?” Alastor asked, looking rather smug. Husk considered knocking that grin off her creepy ass face, but figured it wasn’t worth starting shit with the closest thing he had to a friend. He vaguely heard the odd voice in the back of his head, his mother saying something about not hitting girls… ha, what an idea.

Instead he put a bit of pressure against Alastor’s lower back and started leading her toward the door. The overlord didn’t seem to care all that much about fighting back, who knows, maybe she was just too amused by this odd behavior to put a stop to it. Husk didn’t really care, eventually lowering his hand when it became clear that Alastor intended to follow after him regardless.

His paw came back soaked in blood and he didn’t even bother to hide his grimace.

“Perhaps it’d be best if I didn’t track blood into the house,” Alastor said, clearly noticing his reaction. He scoffed at her words and wiped his paw off on his trousers, shrugging a bit.

“Like you said, I ain’t exactly pristine either..”

That seemed to settle the conversation as Husk opened the door to his apartment and Alastor neatly stepped inside. She stood still for a long moment, still taking those same, rasping breaths as she looked over his place. Thankfully the place wasn’t in too bad of shape, only a few empty bottles on the coffee table. His morning dishes were neatly set in the drying rack and he didn’t have any laundry about, so that was a win.

“You doing okay?” he asked finally, keeping a fair distance even as he tried to assess the other’s physical condition. Alastor only narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, as if not understanding his concern. “Yeah, okay… why don’t you hop in the shower or something. Clean up some of that blood so I know what’s actually yours..”

She laughed at that, loud and for show as her hand waved with flourish through the air. “You need not concern yourself,” she said, her eyes once more looking around. “I’m quite alright, Husker, after that playground scuffle!”

“Bullshit, I saw ya’ get hit hard. If it's as bad as I think it is, then you’d be an idiot to turn away help,” he said, walking around the edge of the breakfast bar and opening one of the upper cabinets. He pulled out the first aid kit and set it down on the counter. “Wash up, I should be ‘bout done patching myself by then.”

Those red eyes followed his every move with precision and finally she released her microphone staff and let it disappear with a soft puff. Husk seemed a bit skeptical at first, watching her idly, but eventually she made her way into the apartment and headed down the short hall to the open bathroom at the end. 

It didn’t take too long to dress his own wounds. He had spent most of his time fighting lesser demons that had been raiding the area on Vox’s command, so most of the damage was superficial. Alastor though, there was no telling just how bad off she might be. Vox’s abilities centered mostly around electricity and shit like that was no joke…

He had seen his share of tough shit over the years, stab wounds, decapitations, limbs blown clear off from landmines… and electrical burns. At least they weren’t going to die from any side effects, but if any muscle tissue was too damaged, it’d probably have to be cut away before Alastor could heal properly.

He rubbed at his face, feeling uncertain despite having already offered to patch Alastor up. He had practically dragged her into the apartment, even if no one could make Alastor do anything she didn’t want to. Slowly he pushed himself up and headed toward the bathroom door, ears tilting as he made sure he still heard the sound of running water.

Claws curled gently as he lifted his hand and knocked on the door. “Al, mind if I grab your clothes? I can throw ‘em in the wash,” he called, hearing the sound of the shower curtain jostle, the soft splashes of Alastor moving around.

“No, thank you!”

Husk frowned a bit at that response. Alastor didn’t generally turn down the offer of menial labor, in fact she usually seemed rather thrilled when demons seemed to dote on her out of fear. He had seen uncomfortable waiters or bartenders nearly tripping over themselves to keep her satisfied, worried that if her mood would turn they might be her next victim. Alastor delighted in the nervous tension.

So then what was the concern here? Did she not want Husk to mess with her things? Did she think he wanted to sneak a peek at her? Or worse yet, was she still trying to hide her injuries?

He let out a heavy sigh, simply lingering outside the door as he thought through his options. He didn’t see any choice that didn’t mean risking his neck. Getting any sort of insight into Alastor’s injuries likely meant invading her privacy in one way or another…

He perked up a bit when he heard the water turn off and the shower curtain being drawn back. When he finally heard the sound of her hooves against the tile floor he lifted his hand once more to knock. “Alastor, I wanna make sure you’re okay!”

He heard a brief hiss of static and a bit more clicks of Alastor’s hooves as she seemed to shift about. “That’s hardly appropriate,” she said bluntly. “I’m not decent.”

He rolled his eyes. “Al, it ain’t like I’ve never seen tits before,” he said, patience wearing a bit thin.

Alastor went silent on the other side of the door, even the faint white noise dissipating. For a moment, Husk thought perhaps she had simply used her magic to flee, but he felt pressure against the door as if weight was resting against it from the other side.

“You know?” asked an unfamiliar voice. It was soft, untainted by sharp radio effects. “Tell me how you know?”

“Wait, what?” It seemed the confused response escaped him without his express permission.

Alastor only chuckled in response, her voice quickly returning to normal. Then all of the sudden the door was pulled open and Husk was greeted with the sudden sight of Alastor’s damp red locks, that mad grin, and her slender, female body wrapped in a towel. Her dirty clothes were nowhere to be seen, perhaps she had simply disposed of them with magic, and blood was starting to seep through the cream colored towel.

He glanced down, noticing that some blood was dripping on to the floor as well…

“Shit…” he said numbly, looking back up at Alastor.

She only smiled, her eyes narrowed a bit as she parted the towel just barely along her side, careful to keep her more private places covered…

But that was plenty to confirm Husk’s suspicions. It looked almost as if someone had tried to burrow a hole through her abdomen, the wound open and torn, all red blood and tender pink flesh. Clearly she had already torn the damaged tissue away, if the claw marks were any indication.

Husk reached out gently, pushing Alastor to once more wrap the towel around herself as he took a few steadying breaths. “We need to wrap it…” he said as calmly as he could, his paws shaking just barely.

… that sight was burned into his memory. He likely wouldn’t sleep well for weeks… the way the blood pulsed from open flesh…

Carefully he stepped around Alastor and gathered a few more towels. “Follow me,” he said, heading into his bedroom. He laid a couple towels down over the comforter and gestured for Alastor to sit, which she did with surprisingly no argument. She only seemed to watch him, her smile wide and toothy, eyes narrowed as if studying his every move…

He left her there on his bed for a quick moment as he retreated to the kitchen and leaned against the counter, crouching down and shuddering. Stop the bleeding, wrap the wound…

He reached for the upper cabinet, grabbing the first bottle he found and wrenching off the cap. Whiskey, he noted idly as he took a long swig. There was no chance of doing this sober, that was for sure. Stop the bleeding, wrap the wound… stop the bleeding. He choked back another quick gulp and grabbed the first aid kit.

When he got back to the bedroom, Alastor seemed to have given up slightly on the idea of modesty. The towel was pulled away once more, resting instead around her waist as she seemed to inspect the wound herself. She looked to Husk, glancing briefly at the bottle in his hand before offering a somewhat amused expression.

“Ah, fuck off…” he mumbled idly as he dragged over the chair that usually held his dirty clothes basket, settling down and looking Alastor over. She was thin, more so than he had ever fully realized… ribs visible under her greyish pale skin. The first naked woman in his bed in over twenty years, and she just had to be nightmare material.

Stop the bleeding, wrap the wound...

He found a larger gauze piece, leaning in to press firmly against the wound. It didn’t take long for dots of red to bleed through and he gathered more gauze, holding firm and trying to ignore the way that the air occasionally seemed to spark with static. After a good while, it seemed most of the bleeding had stopped, likely a mix of Husk’s efforts and Alastor’s healing. Either way he nodded toward Alastor’s hand, drawing back when she moved to replace his pressure carefully.

Then he got to work wrapping, the bandage carefully winding around her sickly thin torso, each time around covering more and more of the gauze until finally Alastor was able to pull her hand away completely. He busied himself with making sure everything was secure and the wound was fully covered and finally Alastor broke the silence.

“How did you know?” she asked again.

Husk scoffed and carefully tucked in the end of the bandage before sitting back. Only then did he really take a moment to look at Alastor completely. He swiped the bottle of whiskey from the floor and took another quick drink. “It don’t take a genius to figure out that you mighta been that female murderer they talked about,” he said simply. “They went on about it for months, takin’ about you being some deviant, dressing like a man. Lying to get that radio gig…”

He shrugged a bit, offering the bottle to Alastor. She offered a soft hum in response and reached to accept the bottle. She tipped it back, taking her own decent sip before offering a low tune of static. “That’s disgusting,” she complained, turning the bottle over to look at the label.

Husk shrugged and stood slowly. He headed toward the dresser, struggling a bit with the jammed drawer before finally he produced a simple button down. In the early days he’d been self-conscious wandering about without clothes, but with time he’d realized they were nothing but pointless and uncomfortable in his new form.

He tossed the shirt to Alastor and turned back to the dresser to look for pants. He heard Alastor stand, could hear the click of her hooves on the wooden floor, the towel dropping. He wrinkled his nose a bit and lifted a hand to shield his view politely as he offered both the pants and a pair of suspenders in case they were a bit too big. He was careful not to look as he felt her pull both garments from his grasp.

“I’m not a deviant,” she said, almost hissing out the word.

“Ya don’t have to justify it,” Husk said, knowing he was interrupting Alastor. It was the truth though, Husk had been there in that time, he knew, seen it with his own eyes. Even here in Hell, the people here were scum, that was just facts. Sure, Alastor was powerful and terrifying, but some overlords were just as old fashioned and ignorant. They wouldn’t care. “I’ll stick to whatever truth you want me too.”

He felt Alastor’s clawed hand against his shoulder and he hazarded a glance over his shoulder. She was dressed once more, though the clothes were indeed a bit big on her. Suspenders had been a good call.

“Thank you, Husker,” she said simply, not bothering to specify exactly what she was thanking him for. She handed him back the bottle of whiskey and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, dragging him a bit closer. “You’re a decent friend!”

Husk was just about to respond to that, just about to push her away, but then she was gone. There was no smoke, no woosh, no flash of light. Just one moment Husk was being subjected to a hug and the next he was alone, standing in his room. He glanced back at the bed and the towels were gone, the blood on the floor had disappeared, even the few smears on his white fur seemed to be gone.

Not a single trace remained.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are greatly appreciated. It's been some time since I've written this much, so thanks for taking the time!


End file.
